Red On White

1.

The day Edward died, i dropped a vase of tulips while walking up the stairs.
We had a fight the day before- screaming, shouting, doors slamming. I remember hiding in the master bedroom, tears streaking down my face, clutching my bump. My baby.

Ed was drunk. He had been out most of the night with his friends. He came back with blood red lipstick smeared across his lips. I was just trying to help him across the room to the couch. I didnt mean to hurt him. But i did. And then he hurt me. He hurt me bad. What i did was nothing compared to what he did to me- i called him a cheating, lying bastard and he hit me. Not once, but twice.

In the four years we had known each other he had never hit me that hard. Yes, he had pushed me a few times, called me names but he'd never left a mark. I ran into the bedroom, pushing our dark oak desk over the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to get through. Hoping i would be safe. I knew what had to happen. It was him, or the baby. And i knew who I'd chose.

I hid behind the wardrobe, detached white marble bed post in hand. waiting for the eerie sounds of cracking wood to echo around the room. It wasnt long before i heard them- it wasnt long before he was standing infront of me. It wasnt long before the red splattered on the white and my world snapped in two.